


Spider

by yeaka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sleepiness, Spooning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 06:24:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gregory rescues Draco from certain doom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spider

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.
> 
> A/N: Just something that occurs to me every time I face this peril and I don’t have a Goyle.

It’s two in the morning. Much too early to deal with it, obviously. If it were a proper time of day Draco would simple hex the spider off his bed, but he can’t do that at night—that’d be insane. It’s too dark to see anything properly, even with a good Lumos spell—what if he missed and ruined his fine sheets? He’s already trapped it, but he’s not about to carry it all the way upstairs like Theodore always wants to, not in the middle of the night, anyway. And he can’t just squish it like a barbarian; that would get spider guts all over his (again, very expensive) sheets. Really, there’s nothing he can do about it.

Gregory, on the other hand, exists mostly for this purpose, and Draco slides his curtains open quietly so as not to wake their dorm-mates. Draco pokes Gregory in the shoulder; he’s facing the other way. When all he does is grunt and continue sleeping, Draco grumbles in frustration and climbs onto the bed. He wrenches the curtains shut behind himself. This is a very delicate matter between him and Gregory alone, and he doesn’t need Zabini waking up and making fun of Draco again over being afraid of spiders—which he isn’t, really. He just thinks they’re icky and gross and don’t have any place in his bed, just like any normal person would agree.

“Gregory.” Again, nothing. Scowling, Draco starts to shake Gregory’s shoulder violently, hissing, “Gregory, wake up! Wake up, you stupid oaf!”

Finally Gregory rolls over, almost knocking Draco off the bed. He yawns loudly and squints up at Draco, who’s illuminated only by the green lake water through the windows and curtains. Which is to say, not very much. It seems to take Gregory a second to recognize Draco, and then he mumbles, “What... what’s going on?”

“There’s a spider on my bed!” Draco whispers furiously. “I’ve got it trapped in a bubble charm so I won’t lose it and find it in my blankets later, but you need to take care of it.”

“Me?” A few seconds after asking, Gregory nods, as though to answer his own question. He’s always been in charge of dealing with bugs for Draco; it’s one of his many ‘friend’ duties. And, frankly, it’s one of the primary reasons Draco will always keep Gregory around. Even if Gregory is a complete idiot, there’re certain areas where Draco simply _needs_ him.

Gregory sits up slowly, stretching out his thick arms, and Draco shuffles back so as not to get hit. As Gregory yawns, Draco drawls, “You can’t squish it, though. I don’t want a mess on my sheets. No spells that might get guts anywhere.”

Stopping mid-stretch, Gregory blinks. “What am I supposed to do with it, then?”

Draco thinks for a minute. Honestly, if he’d known that, he might not have needed Gregory. But then, he can’t really expect Gregory to mentally problem solve. Well, that only leaves one solution.

“Get out.” Draco tries to shove Gregory aside as he says it, but naturally, he doesn’t get very far. Gregory isn’t exactly fat like he used to be—he’s developed into more of a muscular, wrestler sort of thing. But he still weighs about three of Draco.

“What?”

“Get out,” Draco repeats, picking up the blankets. He slides under them, right next to Gregory and knees him hard in the side, but it only elicits a grunt. “I can’t sleep in a bed with a spider in it, obviously. I’ll stay here while you deal with it.”

Gregory shuffles over to dodge the next hit, muttering, “Why don’t we just move it?”

“I don’t want to sleep in a room with a spider in it! Besides, what if the bubble charm doesn’t hold up and it comes back? Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to sleep in a bed that had a spider in it. I’ll have the house elves wash my sheets in the morning, but that’s your problem, now. Get out of the bed.”

Gregory still doesn’t move. Which is a shame, because it makes it impossible for Draco to cocoon up in the blankets like he wants to. It’s always cold in the dungeons, and Gregory isn’t quite close enough to be sharing body heat. “What if I move it onto the floor and crush it?”

“With what?” Draco snorts. “I don’t want spider innards on any of my things, and you’ll have to break the bubble charm for that—what if it scurries away? It’ll be too dark to catch it again, and then it’ll be loose, which is even worse. No, you’ll have to take it outside. Pity we don’t have windows down here, but if you have to go up to the Great Hall, I guess you have to go up to the Great Hall.”

To make it clear that that’s that and there’s no more room for discussion, Draco promptly rolls over, his back to Gregory. He pulls Gregory’s pillow over to himself and gets comfortable, while Gregory sits up, the blankets slowly being tugged off of him. Draco doesn’t want to look over his shoulder as though he’s begging, so he tries to do it in a ‘why are you still here’ sort of way. His eyes meet Gregory’s in the dark.

Gregory nods once and slips through the curtains, disappearing. Draco sniffs and buries his head back in the pillow. It smells sort of musky, like Gregory, but it isn’t unpleasant. Draco curls as in on himself as much as possible, trying to trap in all his own body heat. He can hear Gregory shuffling about, and then footsteps trail out of the room, a door opening and closing. Draco smiles to himself: no more spider.

Zabini and Potter and everyone else can say whatever they want about Gregory, but when it comes down to it, he’s always _there_ for Draco when Draco needs him. He’s good for just about everything Draco can’t do for himself, and even though Draco’s not exactly the warmest person or the best at showing it, he does appreciate it. To be entirely truthful, he doesn’t think about it that much, but maybe he should. His eyelids are heavy, and as sleep crawls back along Draco’s skin, he breathes in the thick scent around him and the comfort of his best friend’s bed. It feels just as good as his own, oddly enough, despite having lower quality sheets and blankets, and it still feels just as inviting and _his_. He knows Gregory won’t mind. He can’t move now; his own bed’s been tainted, and sleep’s setting in.

He’s almost completely nodded off when Gregory gets back, cracking open the curtains. Draco vaguely registers the sound of rustling fabric in the background, but he doesn’t bother to open his eyes or move. Too tired. He was almost there, too. A few more seconds and he surely would’ve been under.

When the bed weighs down behind him, Draco’s hazily confused. He’s sleeping in this bed, obviously—Gregory will have to use his. Except that Gregory didn’t seem to get that memo; he cozies up behind Draco, tugging out the blankets and crawling under them. He mumbles quietly, “Draco? Are you awake?”

Draco is awake, though just barely. He doesn’t show it. He doesn’t want to get into the whole conversation again about why it’s clear he has to sleep here, so whatever. After a minute or two, Gregory sighs. He probably thinks Draco’s asleep. He sidles up behind Draco, and suddenly throws an arm around Draco’s waist.

Draco stiffens instantly. But Gregory doesn’t notice. He presses right up to Draco’s back, his strong thighs framing Draco’s legs, and his large chin rests over Draco’s small shoulder. He’s practically glowing heat, and Draco can feel his defined muscles even through both their pajama shirts. For one awful moment, Draco thinks Gregory’s going to start humping him.

But Gregory just spoons him, holding him tight like a teddy bear. When the shock subsides, it’s too late for Draco to push away without explaining why he didn’t say anything earlier. So he simply continues pretending he’s asleep. A part of his mind wants to figure out what to do about this, what to say, but the rest of him is simply too exhausted. Gregory’s breathing evens out and deepens surprisingly quickly, and after a few moments, Draco checks over his shoulder. The curtains are tightly done up all around the bed; no one has to know about this.

Draco’s too comfortable to move. Gregory’s so _warm._ Even though he’s built like a fighter, his embrace feels soft and loving. It’s odd, for sure. It’s not something they’ve ever done before nor something Draco would ever consider doing with a friend. Not while fully awake, anyway. But now that it’s happening... it’s not nearly so bad as he would think.

It’s sort of... nice.

And besides, Gregory did get rid of a spider for him. Gregory is his hero, like usual. And Gregory never gets anything for that, not even praise. Really, getting to hold Draco like this is the best reward anyone could ask for. If Draco tells himself that lying here is simply part of his duty—simply something to ensure the continued loyalty of a lackey—it’s easier to let himself enjoy it.

With that all figured out, Draco rolls over, adjusting to get comfortable. One look at Gregory’s face confirms he’s asleep; for a Slytherin, he’s never been good at pretending anything. Good. Draco snuggles into his broad chest, yawning.

In the morning, they might have to have a talk about this. First there’ll be a good night’s sleep, despite the whole bug debacle. Then Draco will pretend to wake up in shock that Gregory’s there. He’ll have to ask where Gregory gets off cuddling with him, as though he’s perfectly innocent and it’s all Gregory’s fault. He’ll shove Gregory off and make a big show of it, and they’ll go back to their regular routine.

Or perhaps, behind closed curtains, Draco will reevaluate his relationship with his muscular, spider-killing, loyal personal heater.

In the morning.


End file.
